Bella Luna
by Silver Miko
Summary: ONESHOT: All Blaise could think of was pale golden moonlight, that was the perfect color to describe her hair.


Authors: Not RK Not RK, sorry my RK people! Hello HP people::offers pumpkin juice:

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Bella Luna

by Silver Miko

Pale golden moonlight . That was the best way he could describe the color. So long and soft looking, she seemed to prefer to keep in lose but there were times when it was up in some manner. He recalled the Yule Ball two years earliers, she had her hair up then with a crescent moon hair clip.

It was such a lovely color really, very beautiful, and Blaise liked to think himself a conossieur of beautiful things. He was always fashionable, always made sure to look good, and he was hard to impress and was know for having high standards.

It wasn't the silvery blonde of his best mate Malfoy's hair, which most pale blonde hair tended to look like. It was such a rare lovely pale gold. He almost wanted to reach out and touch it, but held back.

It was ludicrous and absurd. Really. He would never tell another soul about his current seeming obsession for it would be devastating to his reputation at Hogwarts. He was Blaise Zabini, a Slytherin prince of wealth and class, of a prominent pureblood family from Italy. He was handsome and both loved and loathed by his peers. While he wasn't as outrightly offensive as Malfoy, he still held the Slytherin dislike of Gryffindors and muggles. Mudbloods as some called them, but he disliked using such a crude term, no matter his feelings towards them.

So with all these facts, why was he suddenly so hung up on that girl all of sudden.

She was so strange, not in a bad or eerie way, just more in a peculiar way, believing in foolish flights of fantasy and always saying things that he imagined could leave people feeling awkward around her. It was probably why she wasn't a popular girl and had few friends. The only people she was ever in company with were that annoying Golden Trio, that fool Longbottom, and a few other unimportant students.

But there was something in her peculiar manner, the way she spoke things without regard, it was almost an admirable thing for one who was so ostracized. Her eyes were such a strange misty blue, not dull but vibrant, even though her constant wide-eyed expression tended to make people not want to look her in the eyes. She was, in some sort of strange way which he was unable to explain to himself, pretty in an ethereal way. She seemed like something more myth than girl, something not able to really exist in the world.

She was a rarity indeed, perhaps that was why she stood out to him. There was no one he could think of like her. Most girls prattled on about trivial things or cared too much to cake on make up or play foolish games of coyness. Granted he hadn't minded such behaviors and had many snogs with such girls, but they were disposible things to him.

The butterbeer before him grew warm as he sat alone under a tree outside the Shrieking Shack. Breaking from his thoughts, he took a sip and set the amber bottle down. The skies were clear on the warm spring day, it would be good weather to stargaze tonight at the Astronomy Tower when they returned from Hogsmeade. Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle were off stomping around and tormenting some third years, and he for one was in no mood for their games.

Yes they were his mates, but sometimes they behaved like children. He didn't want to think of the matter of Death Eaters or Lord Voldemort. The lot was cast on his fate from his birth, he really had no choice in it. He was raised to believe purebloods were superior over muggles, he was probably going to be a Death Eater, and it would probably end up killing him, if not physically, emotionally.

He would never admit to Malfoy he had no desire to be a Death Eater, so he would simply go along with the talk of the Slytherins, refer to purebloods against Voldemort as traitors...

Better to go along than be marked traitor.

He didn't want to think of that either.

Everything was a jumble, everything was complicated, no matter what he did he was going to lose.

Sixth year was becoming quite troublesome indeed.

Maybe that was why he becoming obsessed with that girl, for all her peculiar manners, she was uncomplicated. Simple in a good way. He didn't really talk to her much, just overhead her at passing, but that wasn't always the case.

He recalled an instance the week before.

_He was studying his Potions book in the evening, when no one was around, not even Granger surprisingly. He didn't notice when she had walked up the table until he heard her sit across from him._

_He lowered his book slowly, arching an eyebrow at her as if to say "just what are you doing here at this table?"_

_"Um, hello." she said, pulling out her own Potions book. He could tell she was slightly nervous, her hand pushing some hair behind her ears._

_"For someone who seems nervous in my company, you should have sat elsewhere." he replied._

_She blinked, her lips pursing._

_"Oh, it's not...if you don't want me to sit here that's okay. I just thought it would be nice for a change to sit with someone."_

_It was his turn to blink._

_So it wasn't he who had her nervous. She was nervous he would be mean or tell her to move. He knew she got that a lot._

_"Ah forgive me, Looney."_

_He regretted it the moment it left his lips, when she went still, then sighed._

_"I'm sorry Lovegood, it just..."_

_"It's all right. I guess people are so used to calling me that they forget my name is 'Luna'. Really different vowels and all. But I can't do anything about it I guess and it's better to be nice and just ignore it then make people dislike me more."_

_Blaise didn't know why he felt so sorry for insulting her, usually he didn't care. Her reply left him feeling a bit of pity for her. _

_He guessed it was because everyone else already did. _

_"So then Lovegood, what are you doing here this late?"_

_"Studying. It's easier when there's less people around."_

_"Because?"_

_She blinked again._

_"Because it's easier to concentrate when people aren't staring at you and making you feel awkward."_

_Blaise nodded. _

_"For a shy girl, you speak pretty bluntly."_

_He could see a slight trace of color on her cheeks. It suited her._

_"I always have, I guess. Probably why people think I'm weird and all."_

_"It's just a rare thing these days I suppose. Honesty."_

_"My father always says it's important to make the truth known."_

_Blaise smirked._

_He knew Luna's father owned the Quibbler, which was really nothing more than a tabloid, but it was a known fact that Luna believed everything it printed. _

_He went back to reading for Potions, as did she._

_They didn't speak for another hour until she got up and said "good night, Blaise." _

Getting up, he grabbed his Hogwarts jacket from the grass next to him and headed back to the train station to return. As he passed through and gave Hogsmeade one last look, he went to find the proper platform. As he walked by, pale golden moonlight locks caught his eye as he paused to half turn.

There to his left Luna stood, reading a copy of the Quibbler as she waited for the train.

He should have walked away, not said a word.

"Lovegood."

She blinked and turned her head and smiled softly at him.

"Hi Blaise."

"Anything interesting in the news?" he asked, standing next to her at the platform.

"Well, a couple unicorns found out in Nottingham said to be winged!"

"Interesting."

"It really is. I'd love to see one."

Blaise chuckled, he couldn't help it. She was so wonderfully naive sometimes.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, just thinking."

She pursed her lips, then looked away.

"It might...not be good for you to be seen talking to me. The other Slytherins might think it's weird or something."

He turned to look at her, seeing her now rolled up copy of the Quibbler clutched tightly in her hands.

"Ah, but I'm Blaise Zabini, and no one has the gall to dare say anything on what I do."

"It must be nice to have that feeling."

"Sometimes."

"Well no one ever called you 'Looney'."

"True, you really need a better nickname. I mean Looney is so boring."

Her eyes widened more as she watched Blaise seem to mockingly think deeply.

"Let's see, let's see..."

Something came to mind, and he was sure she wasn't fluent or knew any Italian so he could get away with it.

"Bella Luna, per una ragazza chi e simile lume di luna pallido. Perfecto."

"Bella...Luna?" she asked, looking up into his brown eyes.

"Indeed. So you are now Bella Luna. Hello Bella Luna, how are you today Bella Luna? It should catch I would think." he said, unable to resist, and patting her on the top of the head quickly and memorizing the feeling of her silky hair.

"I think that may be as bad as 'Looney', no offense. Really, Luna will suffice."

"Well, I happen to like Bella Luna. Ah well."

The train pulled up and Blaise stepped aboard, headed for the Slytherin compartment as Luna went off to sit with the Trio. The other Slytherins probably did see him talking to her, but he didn't care at the moment. So what? She was a pureblood anyway. Not like Malfoy's own obsession with that muggle Granger. Blaise wondered if at times if Malfoy wanted to either kill or snog her. Oh well, he would never ask.

He was preoccupied with pale golden moonlight.

Meanwhile as Blaise thought, Luna looked out the window of her compartment with a slight smile on her face.

Bella Luna. Beautiful Luna.

Bella Luna, for a girl who is like pale moonlight.

She knew he probably spoke it not thinking she actually knew Italian, but she wouldn't tell him such. It was the one time she wouldn't just say it and cause him awkwardness.

Even if they only had a few words, and even if he was a Slytherin prince who was quite capable of being as Hermione would say 'a loathesome git', she knew there was a side of him that was nice, for a Slytherin to talk to her, the strange Ravenclaw, when many others wouldn't, showed it.

Perhaps she had finally met someone who really understood her.

"Bella Luna." she murmured.

"What's that, Luna?" Harry asked.

"Oh, nothing." she replied, going back to reading The Quibbler.

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Bah. That was a weird change of pace.

Yes this pairing is most likely impossible, but the idea was too delicious.


End file.
